


Why Thomas Jefferson No Longer Hates Ravens

by DemiBoyDoesStuff



Series: How Thomas Jefferson Stumbled into Urban Fantasy [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Selkies, Shapeshifting, Slavery, but birds?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiBoyDoesStuff/pseuds/DemiBoyDoesStuff
Summary: If there are two things at collage that Thomas hated it was Alexander Hamilton and the local murder of ravens. things start to change when he sees Hamilton fall out of a tree while wearing a feathered cloak.Also known as the urban fantasy selkie AU no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at collage and have tons of things I should be working on, including another fanfic, and IDK what I'm doing, but I'm going to start this anyway.

If there were two things at college that Thomas hated, it was Alexander Hamilton and the local murder of ravens. To be fair to the birds, Thomas could at least recognise that he started it by throwing a rock at one in freshmen year, although he thought that the fact that they were still holding the grudge two years later was a little ridiculous.

Hamilton, on the other hand, had hated Thomas from the moment they first met. When Thomas sat next to him in political science Hamilton took one look at him, wrinkled his nose in disgust and moved to a different seat. When Thomas confronted him about it he had made a comment about a little birdy telling him that Thomas was an ass. Thomas still had no idea who had told Hamilton that, not because of the lack of people who would call Thomas an ass, more because, as far as Thomas could tell, Hamilton had no friends.

Except maybe the local murder of ravens. Which just gave Thomas more reason to hate both of them.

 

“Do you think that he can talk to them?” Thomas jokingly asks his friend James

“Hm?” James responds without looking up from his textbook,

“Hamilton and his stupid birds.” he says stabbing his plastic fork in Hamilton's direction. They are out in the quad, eating lunch at a picnic table. Normally Thomas tries to avoid spending too much time in the quad, but James had insisted on having lunch outside today, claiming that the fresh air helped his cold. James finally looks up from his work.

Hamilton is sitting at a picnic table on the other side of the quad frantically typing on his laptop as two ravens pick at his lunch. Occasionally he pauses to take a bite from his lunch, as though he isn’t sharing it with two large, filthy, carrion eating birds. James wrinkles his nose in disgust, Burr only spares a glance in Hamilton’s direction.

“Well, with how much he talks about avian intelligence…” Burr trails off, the kind of non committal answer that one would expect from Burr. Although Thomas does pity him, the poor man is Alexander’s roommate and had probably had to sit through far too many lectures on politics, economy, and how smart Alexander believes birds to be.

Thomas is distracted from glaring at Hamilton by the flash of a camera. The pair of crows fluttered up from the lunch table immediately and Hamilton’s head snaps in the direction of the flash to snap at the photographer. Unfortunately for him the photographer has already realized his mistakes and is halfway across the courtyard by now. He should probably keep going, Hamilton might still chase him down. Meanwhile, the ravens have taken to circling lazily above the courtyard

“At least he’s not as bad as Benjamin.” James said. Thomas is not sure that he would agree that Benjamin Franklin, the unfortunate photographer, is necessary worse than Hamilton, but he is certainly crazier. He has been going on for a couple years now about the unusual behavior of the birds at the university, and he is willing to engage in some very strange behavior to collect evidence. Like, for instance, hiding in a bush and taking pictures of Hamilton sharing his lunch with said birds. And this isn’t even the first time he’s done that this month.

“I think I saw him fall out of a tree the other day.” Thomas replies, watching warily as the two ravens perch in the branches over their table,

“Yeah, I heard that he’s been putting up fishing wire in the trees to try to catch something.” James says, and as much as Thomas would love seeing a raven get stuck in fishing wire, even he knows that that is a terrible idea

“If Hamilton doesn’t kill him for that, Angelica will.” Thomas notes, James hums in agreement. Angelica Schuyler was the president of the bird watching club and a certified badass, if there was anyone on campus to fear it would have been her. 

Thomas stiffens as he feels something fall on his head. He jumps up from the bench immediately trying to get away from the ravens overhead but the damage is already done.

“Those little monsters shat on me again!” he shouted. he could feel the poop seeping through his hair, and worse he can see Hamilton laughing at him from across the courtyard.

“shit, I need a shower, cover for me in Lee’s?” he says to James, James, the best friend a person could ask for, nods and wishes him good luck. Something he’ll need when he explains to Lee why he was late for his class. 

 

Thomas is lucky enough to have a suite dorm, meaning he has a kitchenette and a full bathroom that he only has to share with five other people. Thomas was also unlucky enough to share that suite with two of the worst people ever, Alexander Hamilton and George King. 

Thomas entered the kitchen to find Samuel Seabury, King’s roommate (boyfriend? Hired servant? whatever.) making pancakes and eggs at 12:30. That could only mean King had just woken, and when King woke up he hogged the bathroom for at least an hour. Thomas drops his bag in the middle of the floor and starts pounding on the bathroom door.

“George is in there right now.” Seabury said, carrying on his tradition of being absolutely useless for anyone other that King. Thomas ignores him, carrying on his tradition of ignoring Seabury. 

The door snaps open, revealing an annoyed looking King with his hair still in rollers and a green paste smeared on his face. His expression quickly morphs from annoyed to amused as he takes in Thomas,

“It pooped on you again?” he asks with a maniacal grin,

“Let me in King,” Thomas demands, he has neither the time nor the patience for this, his class with Lee starts at one and James can only cover for so long. King on the other hand, has a free day in the middle of the week, something that he is always happy to brag about.

“Well I was about to get in the shower myself…” he says dramatically “but I could be persuaded to let you go first” King’s parents are paying for all his expenses, another thing that he is happy to brag about, but he is always looking to extort spending money out of his fellow classmates.

“I have bird shit In My Hair, King.” Thomas says, 

“Yes I saw that.” There is a silent battle of wills for a moment before Thomas finally caves and fishes ten dollars out of his pocket.

“All yours.” King sings as he passes Thomas.

Thomas makes a quick stop in his dorm to grab his toiletries, which he stopped keeping in the bathroom after he realized someone was stealing them, although he is still unsure if it was King or Hamilton doing it. Then he showers and readies himself quickly, by the time he’s ready to go it’s 1:05 but if he walks quickly Thomas might be able to convince Lee not to give him an absence.

Thomas is halfway across campus when he hears a squawk that could be either human or bird, a crack, strings snapping, and a thud. The source of the noise is seen almost as soon as it is heard as Hamilton crashes out of a tree, unconscious, tangled in fishing wire, and covered in a black feathered cloak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter kinda sucks, I just got to collage though so I'm just trying to keep the ball rolling.

Naturally Thomas’s first thought when he sees this is ‘fuck’. Then ‘holy shit’ then ‘fuck is he dead’ as he jogs over then ‘I should call James’. He only realizes the problem with this plain on the fourth ring, at which point he is kneeling over Hamilton and knows that he’s at least breathing, and someone answers the phone.

“Care to explain why you are not in my class?” Thomas cringes as Lee asks, at least now he has a legitimate excuse.

“Hamilton fell out of a tree, he’s unconscious and I think he has a broken arm” one of Hamilton’s arms is hanging at an odd angle, suspended above the rest of him by fishing wire.

“Yes, I’m sure, and Martha at the clinic will surely back up your story.” Lee says sarcastically.

“Ya, I’ll tell her to call you when I get him there, gotta go, I need two hands to carry him.” Thomas hangs up quickly. James will likely get in trouble for having his phone on in class but now Thomas has an excuse for being late and some direction for what to do with Hamilton.

First things first. He needs to untangle Hamilton from this tree, which he can’t do with Hamilton’s stupid cloak in the way. He unclasps the cloak and examines it for a moment. The clasp looks like gold and the feathers, despite being ridiculously long at the bottom, feel real. It was probably worth a fortune. He wonders how Hamilton could afford it, and why he would be wearing something so expensive while doing something as dumb as climbing a tree. Thomas stuffs the cloak in his backpack. He’ll ask Hamilton about it later, right now he needs to take him to the clinic, which is all the way on the other side of campus.

Thomas is glad he carries his muti tool with him pretty much everywhere, it would have taken forever to try to get Hamilton untangled from the fishing wire without a knife. He is tempted, for a moment, to let Hamilton’s arm fall and hit the ground hard, but he ultimately decides against it. Thomas knows he’s not nice but he isn’t sadistic. A broken arm and an array of cuts where he was snagged in the tree or where the fishing wire dug into his skin are unpleasant enough.

Once Hamilton is untangled it’s simply a matter of carrying him to the clinic, which is all the way on the other side of campus. Hamilton is surprisingly light in his arms, so it’s not much of a hassle to carry him to the clinic.

Carrying Hamilton is no the difficult part of the walk. The difficult part is the ravens. They circle overhead, swooping low occasionally in a way that makes Thomas nervous, he just washed bird poop out of his hair he has no interest in doing it again. But they don’t poop on him, they don’t come too close at all. They just watch. It does nothing good for Thomas’s anxity, and he can’t help but think about his mother’s old superstition about ravens being omens of death.

It is a relief to get to the clinic. Martha Washington is already waiting for them when they get inside, she instructs Thomas to set Hamilton down on a cot and starts fretting over him immediately 

“Lee called, he told me that Hamilton fell out of a tree.”

“Yeah, there was fishing wire in the tree, I think he was trying to take it down,” Martha glances at Thomas, 

“Why would someone put- You know what? Never mind, I need to get him transferred to a hospital. You should get back to class, I’ll call Lee and tell him you were down here. Thank you for bringing him in.” Thomas nods, he takes one last look at Hamilton and leaves.

More ravens have amassed outside the clinic. They are perched in the trees, among the autumn leaves. They fidget in the trees, shifting from one foot to another, bobbing their heads, preening their feathers. Thomas thinks they look nervous, then realizes that that’s the kind of thing that Hamilton would think and pushes it from his mind. He walks back to Lee’s class uninterrupted.

 

Other than a passive aggressive lecture about punctuality, Lee’s class is uneventful. Thomas spends the whole class wanting it to end, which was not entirely unusual but today it was because he couldn’t stop thinking about Hamilton. Thomas had never liked him, yes, but seeing anyone so hurt had made something in the pit of his stomach squirm uncomfortably. Then there was the cloak.

Thomas can’t get his mind off of it. He hadn’t even known they made feathered cloaks, and there were the feathers themselves, the ones at the bottom had been so big he couldn’t even imagine the size of the bird they must have come from and they were so shiny and alive, like they were still part of a living animal. It made it seem almost magical. Besides the question of how it existed there was the question of where Hamilton got it. Hamilton was as notoriously poor as King was rich, a cloak made with real giant feathers (Thomas was certain they were real) and a gold clasp would be far out of his price range, unless some thrift store worker didn’t know what they were looking at and priced it wrong. Even forgetting about where Hamilton got the cloak, there was the question of why he was wearing it while climbing a tree. It wasn’t like Hamilton wore the cloak regularly, or at all from what Tomas had seen (he would have been sure to make fun of him mercilessly), so why wear it for something so active and dangerous as tree climbing?

“I need to get my phone.” James says, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. Thomas realizes that he spent the whole class thinking about Hamilton and his stupid cloak.

“Sorry about that, Hamilton fell out of a tree and I didn’t really know what to do.” Thomas says. packing up his things and trying to ignore the cloak. He personally thinks its ridiculous that Lee confiscates phones like they’re a bunch of high schoolers. 

“He fell out of a tree?” James asks, “I knew he’d be upset about the bird traps but trying to get them down himself is just stupid” 

“Yeah and-” Thomas considers not telling James about the cloak for a moment, but then why wouldn’t he tell James? James is his best friend, they tell each other everything. He feels off balance for a second, but recovers. He no longer wants to talk about the cloak somewhere so public.

“I want to show you something when we get back to the dorm” he says instead 

The walk back to the dorm is quiet, James keeps glancing at Thomas, Thomas keeps glancing up, he always tries to keep his eyes up. A pidgin flutters from tree to tree, and a collection of sparrows are pecking around in the dirt, Angelica is on a latter removing fishing wire from a tree, but there are no ravens.

 

The kitchenette is empty when they enter but Thomas still doesn’t feel comfortable with the fact that one of their suite mates could walk in at any time so he motions James into their room.

“What’s all this about?” James asks as they enter, Thomas takes off his back pack and pulls the cloak out. The black feathers shine like an oil slick and Thomas is hit with the sudden compulsion to put it on, despite it being the most unfashionable thing that he has ever seen

“Alexander was wearing this when he fell,” Thomas says, James is giving him an odd look,

“So, he dresses like more of an idiot than we thought?” James asks, Thomas shakes his head, he doesn’t understand why James is being so dismissive, there is something more to this cloak. 

“I want to figure out what’s up with this thing before Hamilton gets back” he says. James gives him the look that he always gives Thomas when he thinks he’s getting hung up on something stupid, but he closes his eyes and shrugs.

“I’ll help you research until my philosophy class.” Thomas absolutely beams at his friend. God did he make a good choice when they made friends.

 

When you google the term feathered cloak only three things come up, a Wikipedia article on what time periods and places they were used, a lot of cosplays, and a few articles on mythological shapeshifters.

“so, he’s a cosplayer.” James says, closing his laptop, “or the descendent of a Hawaiian chief or Irish poet” there is a joking tone to his voice as he slides his laptop into his backpack. Those options just don’t sound right to Thomas though, he runs his fingers over the smooth glossy feathers and looks back at James 

“Or he’s a bird shapeshifter” he says, James lets out a snort of laughter.

“yes, or he’s a bird shapeshifter,” he says, swinging the backpack over his shoulder and opening the door “don’t get too hung up on it, I’m sure he was just doing something stupid and Franklenesque with the birds.” He waves goodbye as he finishes his statement.

Thomas runs his fingers over the feathers again as James closes the door. Logically, he knows that James is probably right, but he still has this gut feeling that there is something else to this. Once again, he feels the compulsion to put it on but this time there is no one else in the room, no reason not to. 

Thomas stands in front of his mirror and drapes the cloak across his shoulders, he pauses for a moment holding the clasp. This feels like a point of no return, like if he doesn’t do this he can get Burr to put the cloak back in their room and Hamilton will never know he touched it (more or less, as obviously he’ll know Thomas gave it to Burr). Thomas shakes his head, he’s not the type to go back on his decisions, so he clasps the cloak.

Nothing happens. The only difference is that Thomas is now wearing a feathered cloak that stops at his knees, although it must have covered Hamilton completely. The cloak is easier to examine when it is being worn, rather than sitting in a pile on a bed or in a backpack, and he can see that it is very well made, as if he hadn’t confirmed that already. It is made in a way that mimics a real wing, with thick layers of little feathers on top and a single layer of long feathers on bottom. It seems that there is nothing all that extortionary about the cloak after all. Then Thomas reaches up to unclasp the cloak, and the cloak moves with him. Not in the way that any cloak would, sliding off his arms as he raises them, more like they are copying their movements, Thomas stretches his arms to the side and the cloak also stretches out to the side, he lifts his arm and the cloak lifts too. 

Well fuck. He’s wearing a magical cloak. Hamilton owns a magical cloak. Hamilton’s a fucking bird shapeshifter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson carries a multi tool because real Jefferson had a knack for inventing simple gadgets and i think he would get a kick out of multi tools. also real Jefferson really liked birds, don't worry though they will grow on our thomas.  
> also all the reviews that I got are really appreciated, i know this was off the wall and i'm glad to hear y'all like it and want more.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas flings the cloak off immediately. He had never considered himself to be superstitious, but wearing Hamilton’s magic cloak just seems like a bad idea. He leaves it on the floor while he gathers up his backpack. He rushes out of his room without bothering to make sure the door was all the way closed. He would do his work in the library, right now he doesn’t want to be anywhere near that cloak.

Thomas spends the next hour in the library researching éankies, the bird shapeshifters that Thomas thought Hamilton was. According to Wikipedia, they were a common myth originating in Ireland that had migrated through the rest of Europe, although similar myths existed all over the world. Apparently, people where fans of the idea of turning into birds. The myths all follow a similar pattern to those of selkies, where people would steal an éankie’s feathers and force the éankie to marry them. Or to just be their personal servant. Considering all the stories where about female éankies and took place in medieval Europe, there wasn’t much of a difference. 

As he reads through the myths, Thomas starts to feel a little stupid and maybe a little crazy. Was he really entertaining the idea that his classmate and sworn rival was a completely mythical creature? The idea had seemed plausible in his dimly lit dorm, but here under the library’s florescent lights, it seems ridiculous. After all what evidence does he have that can stand up to the consensus of the entire scientific community since the 1900’s? He imagines trying to convince James. What would he even say? ‘well I know that magic doesn’t exist but look, he’s got a really weird cloak!’ yeah like that could hold up in an argument. The most likely idea is that Thomas just imagined the cloak moving with his arms, or he didn’t and the cloak has some kind of mechanism in it that he hadn’t noticed. Either way, this is probably just his anxiety or something getting to him.

He packs his laptop back up and heads back to his room, he’s going to give the cloak another look and figure out what’s up with it, then he’ll probably give it back to Hamilton. Or maybe he’ll use it as a bribe to get Hamilton to give up on his stupid financial plain in student government. Either way, he just wants to get it out of his hair.

 

Thomas left the door to his dorm open when he left for the library, and he sees movement in there when he enters the sitting room, but that’s not right. James shouldn’t be back yet; his class doesn’t end for another thirty minutes. Thomas automatically assumes the worst and flicks out the knife on his multitool. He has never been in a fight in his life, he has especially never been in a knife fight. He doesn’t even know if multitool knives are good for a fight. He hopes he won’t have to find out.

He creeps towards the door slowly, reaching out to push it open enough to see more than just shadows moving on the wall. He flinches as it creaks and the intruder whips around. He is suddenly face to face with Gorge King.

King is clutching the feathered cloak tightly as his eyes flicker over Thomas, getting wider when he notices the knife. 

“What the hell man?” Thomas demands as he steps into the room, letting the hand with the knife drop.

“Don’t come any closer!” King demands “I have your feathers, you have to obey me!” Thomas is shocked for a moment before everything falls into place. He’s not sure if he should be more surprised that King knows the obscure mythology or that actually believes it.

“That’s not mine” Thomas says, folding the knife and stepping farther into the room, closer to King, who takes a step back.

“Where did you get this? Do you even know what it is?” King snaps. There is a wildness in his eyes that makes Thomas worried.

“Look I don’t really know what you’re talking about,” Thomas says, “but you’re kinda freaking me out” he says, putting his multitool back in his pocket and holding his hands up in what he hopes in a placating gesture. King apparently doesn’t take it this way he takes a couple steps back and clutches the cloak even tighter, he is almost against the wall at this point and Thomas isn’t sure he wants to corner him.

“I’ll buy it” King offers, his eyes flicking around the room again like a wild animal trying to find a way to make an escape

“What? No, I can’t sell it it’s not mine” Thomas may not like Hamilton but he’s not going to sell his shit to an apparently slightly unhinged King.

“That’s the point!” King snaps “you would never sell it if it was yours!” Thomas is getting very sick of all of King’s cryptic bullshit fast.

“Look man, you just broke into my room-“ Thomas starts

“The door was open” King interrupts 

“And now you’re talking crazy-“ he says a little more forcefully 

“You only think that because you don’t know what’s going on” King snaps

“And if you don’t get out,” he says over King’s protests, “I’m gonna call campus security”

King maintains eye contact with Thomas like a challenge, Thomas pulls out his phone, and starts to unlock it when the suite door opens.

“They were out of double chocolate chip muffins, but they did have red velvet today, which I know is your favorite, so I got that instead, is that all right?” Seabury asks as he enters. He stops in his tracks as he sees the confrontation.

“What’s going on?” He asks, Thomas ignores him and looks back at King. He looks considerably less unhinged; the transition is so fast that Thomas wonders if he imagined it. His grip on the feathers has gone slack so Thomas takes the moment to snatch them back. King scrambles to keep them but he’s too late.

“Get Out of My Room.” He orders King, who scowls at him.

“You have no idea what you have” King snaps as he stalks past Thomas. He pauses at the door like he wants to say something else but then just shakes his head and slams it.

Thomas is left in his dimly lit room, holding a black feathered cloak more confused than he was before.

He doesn’t want to go out and confront King yet so he settles for doing the thing that he came back to the dorms to do in the first place, he inspects the cloak. It’s an overall disappointing investigation. He is unable to find anything that he hadn’t already found on his first investigation. There is nothing in it that would make it move like Jefferson had seen when he wore it, in fact there was nothing in the cloak at all but the feathers and gold clasp. He can’t even figure out what the feathers were attached to. This does nothing to make him feel less insane. 

 

He is sitting on his bed looking at the cloak laying fanned out on the floor when the door opens. He jumps almost a foot as he pulls out his multitool and pints it at the intruder, forgetting to flip the knife out and probably looking like an idiot. 

“What the hell Thomas?” James asks, closing the door behind him “Are you still obsessing over Hamilton’s cloak?”

“I’m not obsessing Jemmy, there really is something weird about this cloak” he snaps back. “King tried to steal it earlier, you should have seen him, he really lost it for a second”

“that says more about King’s mental health then the value of the cloak.” James points out. Thomas doesn’t respond and the dorm is quiet for a moment.

“don’t you have orchestra in, like, fifteen minutes?” James asks, Thomas glances at the clock, and yes James was right he dose have orchestra in fifteen minutes. Where had the time gone? 

He jumps up and grabs his violin, “can you stay here and make sure King doesn’t try to steal the cloak again?” he asks 

“you have a safe, Thomas” James deadpans back. This is true, Thomas had thought that it was unnecessary, but his parents insisted that he keep a safe in his closet.

“thanks for the reminder,” he says dropping his violin so he can fold up the cloak and put it in the safe.

“you might want to stick around any way though, who knows what King would steal if he decided to break in.” Thomas says as he slips out the door.

 

Meanwhile Alexander is having quite the time at the hospital. He’s never actually been to a hospital before, both due to his lack of health insurance and his fear of being found out. It might sound childish, but he has a fear of being shipped off to a government lab to be experimented on or something. 

He is shaking constantly and his heart rate is higher than it probably should be, guessing by his nurses worried look when she checks it. Hamilton is quick to tell her that he’s afraid of hospitals, which is technically totally true. She assures him that they won’t be doing anything painful during his stay. 

“Just and X-ray and a look at those cuts, maybe a CAT scan, considering how long you were unconscious after your fall” 

Alexander does not feel any better. He continues to not feel better as they lay a heavy led lined blanket over him (what if his bones are different?), and as they bandage up his cuts while the doctors look over his x-ray (what if his blood clots differently?), and as the doctors debate with him about getting a CAT scan (what if his brain looks different).

Also did he mention that everything hurt like hell? Because that was also true, but he didn’t want pain medication because he might say something stupid and reveal himself.

He only starts to feel better when a doctor walks in and starts telling him he has a single break on his ulna. He says nothing about Alexander’s bones being weird and only remarks on his luck. Then, even better, he concedes that a CAT scan is not necessary and if he isn’t insured, it might be best not to preform, as long as Alexander agrees to stay in the hospital for observation overnight.

Alexander wants nothing more than to return to campus and check on the other ravens in his murder. He needs to warn them about the traps, he might be able to survive a broken arm, but a lot of his friends can’t. Unfortunately, it’s stay overnight or having to once again risk exposing himself, so he agrees to stay overnight. He wishes he had another person like him to pass on the message. 

 

His cast is green. It’s his favorite color so he can’t complain about that, but he has only just now realized that he’s not going to be able to transform with this cast on. He huffs softly and lays back on the hospital bed. 

He’s woken up about half an hour later when a nurse brings his backpack in, he thanks her softly and opens it up, eager to at least get some work done for his classes (he’ll have to put a lot more time into working now that he has to figure out how to type onehanded). He feels a jab of panic when he opens the bag. Inside he can see his textbooks and handouts and his laptop, but his feathers aren’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw mutitools are not allowed on most collage campuses because of the knife, so if you want to bring one to collage check with security and they are not good self defense tools, if you are not trained in self defense using a knife do not carry one for self defense, you are more likely to get hurt than to hurt your attacker. also since some of you seem to really like ravens i would suggest looking up the documentary Mind of a Raven its on you tube for free and i watched it to help research for this story. it's very interesting.


End file.
